Safe and Sound
by DeadlyFandoms
Summary: Mary had always known that London wasn't exactly the safest city – especially at night – but she never thought that something would actually happen to her. / One night, Mary is walking through London alone, at first, everything seems fine, but her life is put at risk and it seems as though there's no one there to save her... (Mary and Bert - oneshot) [COMPLETED]


**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Phew! It's been quite a while since I've posted a Mary Poppins one-shot, am I right? :P**

 **Anyway, this is an idea I've had ever since I started writing Mary Poppins fanfictions, however, it just took a back seat in my mind whilst I worked on other projects, however, there were two things that gave me the final push to actually write this. The first one was "Assassin's Creed: Syndicate" (Best Assassin's Creed game out there, by the way), I was playing the mission in The Devil's Acre and it just sparked a bit of inspiration within me.**

 **The secone was the amazing Sound of Music fanfiction "Save Me" that is currently being written by VonTrappObsessor, now, our stories are very different, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have it in mind whilst I was coming up with the concept for this.**

 **Okay, so, I'll stop talking now and let you read!**

* * *

 **Safe and Sound**

Mary had always known that London wasn't exactly the safest city – especially at night – but she never thought that something would _actually_ happen to her. She knew that it had been foolish to walk alone at such an hour, but it really couldn't have been helped, she'd simply lost track of time with her uncle and she'd insisted that he should stay put rather than risking his own neck by walking her back; and she was _not_ about to jeopardise her latest position by not returning to her employers' residence after her day off. No, she had decided that she'd be perfectly fine to walk back alone. And for a while, she was.

As she made her way through the inky blackness of the backstreets, a thick fog hung low around her ankles, nothing too suffocating, but just enough to give London the sick, eerie atmosphere that had inspired so many pieces of art. This was mirrored by the slow clouds the fell from her lips against the sharp November air. There was a slight breeze too, and it nipped unforgivingly at her rose-stained cheeks, causing the skin to prickle to life and flare Mary's attention to the highest level of alertness. And so they should have been, for even though the streets seemed deserted, Mary knew that there was always something lurking behind the black canvas of the London alleyways. She knew that not seeing shouldn't equate to not believing.

Still, she allowed herself some ignorance, for this was not the first time she'd ventured out into the night without some sort of escort, perhaps the familiarity did breed danger, but she deduced that her naturally calm nature would do her some favours…if said favours ever needed to be found. The sharp, shrill clacking of her sensible heels were all that could be heard as the sound ricocheted from the cobblestone path and across the shelved buildings. A tattered union jack hung from one of the buildings overhead – spasming against the harsh wind that continued to ripple ravenously through the lanes and around the corners, searching for someone to wrap in its frostbite grasp.

Mary turned a corner sharply – ducking out of the wind's path – and quickened her pace, she wasn't particularly keen on this route, but it was the only way to get back to her employer's residence without having to take an excruciating detour around the city. Still, the only company she seemed to have was a mewling stray cat that sat perched upon a splintered crate. She seemed safe enough. But, then again, 'safe enough' was no guarantee. As she moved further down the street, the feeble glow of the streetlights began to fade, and soon, it seemed as though the moonlight was her only aid as she became shrouded in the cloak of the night – a harrowing sort of embrace that she knew she couldn't trust. Soon the city was monochrome.

Then, out of nowhere, she heard something, something that shouldn't have been there, something that caused a chill to prickle all the down her spine and the fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand to attention – rigid and fixed to the spot – just like she was. It wasn't anything sinister – at least, it wouldn't have been in broad daylight, but in the blackest of nights, in the snickleways* of London, it was all too menacing. It was the slow, heavy and ominous thud of footsteps coming from a direction that she could not place; they moved leisurely, but with haunting intent. She took a steadying breath and did her best to remain calm, but a blind man could see the way her skin dropped to a ghostly shade – her heart thundering within her ribs.

The threatening _clack, clack, clack,_ of the footsteps continued and Mary let her head whip around to survey her surroundings, to hopefully spot the culprit and flee to safety, but her eyes were unfocused – her vision drunk and fuzzy – and she knew it was hopeless. She took a couple of steps forward – hoping to make her escape – when a shrill, yet familiar sound, brought her to another sickening halt. The sound of a whistle. It was two, deep singular notes – the second lower than the one that preceded it – but it chilled her to the bone and she knew that it was the taunt of her predator. Her breath shuddered. Then silence fell. No steps, no whistles, _nothing_. She knew it wasn't right. She waited, terrified – prey in the sight of the hunter – and hoped with everything she had that perhaps she was safe. Then she heard the whistle again, the same two provoking notes and she knew she definitely wasn't safe. She had to run.

Without thinking, she darted forwards – her mind a blaze with terror and her limbs trembling as they moved – but as she rounded the corner towards the road, a looming, shadowy figure whipped towards her, taking her arms forcefully within his stained hands and shoving her against the nearest wall with hungry violence. She squealed as it happened and whimpered as her back slammed against the wall; and before she could process it, she was pinned beneath his stocky frame. She was trapped.

"'ello there, my lovely, what on earth is a pretty lady like yerself doin' out alone at this time of night?" he purred against her cheeks.

His breath was rotten and heady, but as Mary turned away from the stench, one of his hands took her chin within its grip and forced her to look straight at him.

"Now, now, don't ignore me, that ain't very good manners, wouldn't ya agree?" he chuckled menacingly.

"P-please let me go" she whimpered, but the words were a struggle as her throat closed with dread.

"Oh, an' what would be the fun in that? We've only just met, an' I'm not the sorta bloke that just let's pretty ladies wander off, at least not without showin' them 'ow much I appreciate their beauty…" he hummed as his eyes roamed her hungrily, "…an' what a beauty you are! I think I wanna get to know you better"

He shifted his head slightly to take another look at her, and from the new angle, the moonlight illuminated some of his face and she could finally get a look at her attacker…although, she wished she hadn't. He was large in build and very stocky, not exactly a juggernaut, but he towered above Mary menacingly; his thick dark hair lay across his forehead in greasy clumps, perfectly matching the erratic growth of the scratchy beard that lived across his cheeks. His features bulged from his face, his protruding nose resembling the crooked beak of a crow and his eyes – red and puffy – seared into her with such ravenous cruelty. He licked his lips – giving her a flash of his yellowing teeth – and leant closer to her, a minute growl leaving his throat as he did so. Mary felt her blood run cold and her entire body filled with dread.

"Please…" was all she could managed breathlessly.

"Oh, now you're begging? Well, alright then" he smirked.

"No! Please let me go!"

"No can do, sweet'eart. Now, stand still an' be a good girl, you don't wanna get in trouble now, do ya?"

"Stop!" she shrieked, but the moment the sound left her lips, she felt his large hand tighten its grip on her chin – squeezing the bone until she winced loudly.

"You keep your mouth shut!" he spat.

Mary whimpered again and tightly shut her eyes as he crashed his lips against hers, the rough, bitten appendage moving forcefully as he devoured her sweet taste, indulging in it like a potent, heady alcohol that sent blood rushing straight to his head. The cruelty of his attack was intoxicating him. She kept her lips still, wincing as he kissed her forcefully – with furious desperation – before biting down on her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. In response to the pain, Mary wailed, but was reprimanded instantly when her attacker's palm struck her across the cheek – the force of the blow caused a harrowing echo to bounce off the scratchy brick walls.

"I said shut up!" he fumed before spitting out the remanence of her blood from his own mouth.

Mary could only sniff in response before turning her head away, ignoring the rough scrapes that were forced against her skin by the bricks beneath her cheeks. However, her movement had unknowingly given the perpetrator better access to his next desire. With one hand still holding her chin to keep her in place, he crashed his lips down onto her neck, feasting fiercely on her skin and indulged in her creamy taste to which he was undeserving of. He ignored Mary's whimpers – and the aggravation they caused him – and instead pulled down the collar of her blouse in order to taste more of her. He growled with lecherous satisfaction when his desire was granted, but it wasn't enough; carnal desires were thrumming though his veins like a toxin, and soon, he was ripping the fabric of her collar and sinking his teeth into her innocent flesh.

He left his mark on her, purple, swollen and beastly…he loved every second of the torture; Mary howled out again at that pain, and on some sort of defensive instinct, she sent the heel of her boots into the solid bone of his shin. This time, it was his turn to cry out, though, he did not release his hold of her, and once he had recovered from the pain, decided that she once again needed to be punished. He clenched his fist and belligerently sent the appendage catapulting into Mary's face. She didn't cry out, the pain was too severe, and within seconds she could feel the area around her eyes begin to swell, the beginnings of an ugly contusion were very much alive.

"Bitch!" he snarled, "You're pissing me off now!"

And with that, her grabbed roughly at her clothing and shoved her weakened body into the ground with boundless fury; but he didn't give her a chance to wallow in the pain, for soon, he had swooped in and dragged her back to her feet and pressed her back into the wall. He moved his face closer to hers, snarled and flashed his teeth against the sharp moonlight.

"Are you gonna be'ave now?" he growled peremptorily, and through her sobs, Mary could only nob pathetically in response. She knew then that she had no hope of fighting back. She was trapped.

He moved in again, this time slowly, torturing her further with the vile intent behind his actions, but just as he was about to capture her lips again, they both heard a bellowing…

"Hey!" come from the street.

The attacker whipped his head around, and beneath the pathetic glow of a street lamp, he could see a lanky figure stood tall, facing him and his fists clenched.

"Back off! There's nothin' to see 'ere"

"Get your 'ands off of her!" demanded the figure – who took a few determined steps closer.

"If you wait patiently, you might get a turn of your own. There's plenty of 'er t' go around" he sneered.

That was the final straw. Before anyone knew it, the shadowy figure was bounding towards them, and before anyone could react, sent his fist hurling into the attacker's face and the blow knocked him straight into the mud with an almighty crack that made Mary flinch and squeeze her eyes shut. From that point on, there was only silence, with he exception of the new figure's heavy breathing, and for just a moment, Mary dared to believe that she was safe. Oh, she knew that she couldn't trust such a hope and knew that she should have tried to run, but she just couldn't, she found herself in a complete state of petrified catatonia – she was helplessly fixed to the spot.

"Mary" she heard the shadowy figure say hoarsely, and before she opened her eyes, she knew exactly who it was. Still, she waited until he stepped closer and allowed the moonlight to wash over his features.

"Bert…" she whimpered as she looked at him with such a desperate flood of hope.

For a second – _just a second_ – they were still, but finally, all of the terror and relief came crashing down upon Mary, and without thinking, she threw herself into Bert's arms. He caught her in a supportive embrace and held her tightly, letting her know that she was safe now; he ran his hand in smooth circular motions over her back and gently shushed her as she began to sob into his jacket.

"It's alright, Mary…you're safe now" he told her – his voice breathy and laced with utter disbelief. He couldn't believe what had happened – what was about to happen! – and how anyone could possibly do such a thing to her.

He pulled away slightly so that he could look at her, and upon seeing her puffy eyes – still producing tears – and her face cut and bruised, his stomach churned with a violent mix of sickness and anger.

"Oh, Mary…" he breathed without thought, "…come on, let's get you away from 'ere"

Mary said nothing as they began to walk, she didn't question why he was here or where they were going – for in spite of them spending time together since her return to London, she hadn't mentioned where her employers lived – but her throat had closed completely, and as Bert guided her through the city with a protective hold, she simply buried her face into his neck and willed herself not to cry again. She hoped that if she couldn't see the rest of London, then the danger would no longer exist.

She had no idea how long they walked for, in fact, she wasn't much aware of anything, instead, she forced herself to only focus on the comfort of Bert's hold and the soothing warmth of his body as they moved. She was still trembling from what had happened, but she thanked the universe that Bert had not only found her but had rescued her too; she had been utterly petrified and convinced that something terrible was about to happen to her, and yet Bert saved her. She clung to him desperately, like he was her life force, and almost silently begged for him to never let go.

Mary was vaguely aware of them walking up some steps but didn't dare look at her surroundings until a door closed behind them and she was sure that they were inside; when she finally did open her eyes, she was surprised – yet immensely relived – to find that they were in Bert's flat. He guided them both to sit on the bed (for he owned no sofa, only a ratty armchair) and allowed Mary to slip off her coat. He looked at her – protection and fidelity glossing over his eyes – and for what seemed like the longest time, he simply didn't know what to say.

There she was, Mary Poppins, his best friend, utterly broken. Her clothing was ripped and dirty, her eyes red and sore and there was already and ugly, purple bruise forming around her eye – not to mention her cut lip and bitten skin. She was trembling slightly and whilst they sat on the bed she held her fists to her mouth and did her best to stifle the whimpers and tears; but she didn't have much luck, her body wracked with her heavy and panicked breathing. Bert could see all too clearly how this had beaten her down. It broke his heart. For a while, Mary couldn't bring herself to look at him, not because of the fear that was still thundering through her limbs, but because of shame, how could she have been foolish enough to walk through London alone in the middle of the night, and how had she nearly ended up being…

"Mary…" Bert prompted ever so softly. Without thinking, he put his hand on her shoulder and his heart shattered as she let loose with a tiny flinch at the surprise of his touch.

She turned to face him, and as soon as their eyes met, the floodgates opened. Mary let out a singular strangled sob before an army of tears began to streak down onto her cheeks, clouding her vision and soaking her violated skin. The force of her sobs caused her body to ripple with methodical spasms and through the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the pounding of her heart, she simply struggled to breathe and had to fight and choke for air. Bert couldn't bare to see her like this and he wasted no time in pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. Her body still heaved and trembled within his embrace, but as she continued to wail and soak his shirt with tears, he was determined to do all that he could to comfort her.

"Shhh, Mary," he soothed as he gently rubbed her back with one of his hands, "It's okay, you're safe now"

He could tell that she tried so hard to respond to him, but by the deep gargle in her throat he knew that the words just wouldn't come to her; instead she simply buried her face into his neck and continued to weep. They stayed like for a long while, with Mary crying away her pain and Bert doing all that he could – everything from soothing words to tender caresses – to comfort her. Eventually, the intensity of her sobs died down and the constricting tension of her muscles seeped away until she became limp in his arms. But he didn't let go.

"Thank you, Bert" she croaked – her face still pressed against his neck, "Thank you s-so much"

"You don't need t' thank me"

"I do…you – you saved me"

"I just did what needed to be done…I wasn't gonna stand by and let 'im 'urt you like that"

"I was…oh, Bert I was so scared" she whimpered desperately.

"I know, I know. But it's all over now, and it's never goin' to 'appen again"

"I thought that…he was going to…" but she never finished the sentence, for another ravenous sob erupted from her throat.

"Shhh" Bert soothed gently.

He allowed her to cry for as long as she needed, but after another long – yet undisclosed period – there was a brief pause as Mary finally loosened her clawed grip and moved away from Bert's embrace, and within an instant, her demeanour changed, she stiffened slightly, and he just about caught the way her eyes clouded over with shame. Again, she couldn't meet his gaze. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but decided not to push her, so, instead he waited until she was ready to talk; he knew that she had to be the one to make the decisions and he wouldn't make her talk about anything that made her uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, Bert…" was what she eventually whispered, and he had had to lean in slightly to hear it.

"What? What on earth are _you_ apologising for?" he asked in disbelief. She didn't really believe that this was her fault, did she?

"It…it was foolish of me to walk through London alone at this hour…and not only did I endanger myself, but you too…you shouldn't have to put yourself at risk like that – especially not for my sake" she said timidly – evidently fighting back the sobs that rose in her throat.

"Oh, Mary, don't be ridiculous…" he said softly, " _None_ of this was your fault, okay? Absolutely none of it. Even if you were walkin' back alone, that still doesn't give anyone the right t' attack you"

"But I put you at risk" she sniffed as a couple of tears broke away from the corners of her eyes.

"Not intentionally, and you must know that I would do absolutely _anything_ for you, Mary. Do you honestly think I was gonna stand there and watch some…some monster put 'is 'ands on you?"

She fell silent and let her gaze fall heavily away from his.

"How badly did he 'urt you?" Bert asked with some reluctance.

"Just a few cuts and bruises" Mary replied flippantly.

"I 'ope you're not tryin' to be brave, Mary"

He couldn't ignore the way her hands continued to tremble. His poor Mary.

"What do you mean?"

"Mary, you were attacked an' we both know what would've 'appened if…if I'd not found you…" he watched as another tear fell onto Mary's cheek at the mention of what could have been, "…if you're hurting, you need to say so, and it's okay to do that. I know 'ow strong you are, Mary. But strength doesn't mean not showin' weakness…can I 'ave a look at the bruise on your face?"

She nodded slowly and turned her head to reveal the most prominent mark that had been left on her. She watched as Bert grimaced at the sight of it, but then he reached out and smoothed his fingertips over her cheek – half in examination, half in caressing – and Mary felt her eyes slide shut at the sensation. In comparison to what she'd just endured, the rough, violent and intrusive hands of her attacker combined with he merciless cold air of England's winter, the soft touch of his hand gave her so much comfort; not only that, but it felt like it was so profound. Perhaps because it was Bert's hand? The only hand that – in the past – she had concluded would be the only one she'd let caress her.

"It sure is nasty…" he sighed, "But unfortunately, there's not much that can be done"

"You've already done enough" was the whispered response that he received. At least she seemed to have calmed a bit.

"Like I said, I'd do anything for you"

"I know…and I'd do anything for you too" and at that moment, she gathered enough strength to be able to give him a slight – but incredibly tender – smile, a smile that he gladly returned, a smile that, when produced by Bert, seemed to warm Mary's entire body.

"I think you should stay 'ere tonight," he said abruptly, "you're still quite shaken and I don't want you goin' back out there"

"But what about my employers? They'll expect me to return to my duty tomorrow and they'll surely fire me if I'm not there"

"For goodness sake, Mary, look at you! You were _attacked_. Now, I don't 'ave a telephone, but if you want me t' call them and tell them what 'appened, then I'll find one. Or I'll take you back there tomorrow and explain everythin', I'm sure they'll understand – they've got to! – an' if they don't, should you really be workin' for them?"

"You know I do it for the children"

"I do. And I admire you for it, but you 'ave to look after yourself too…" he hesitated for just a moment before softly adding, "I don't know what I'd do if anythin' ever 'appened to you"

Mary locked her gaze with his and instantly felt her eyes begin to fill with tears. He really was incredible. Not only had he just saved her from an abominable fate, but he may have saved her life too; furthermore, he had stayed loyally by her side for years, always making her laugh, always looking out for her and always there to greet her when she returned to London – regardless of how many times she left him. She concluded that she really didn't deserve a friend like Bert, but she was eternally grateful that she had him in her life; and she hoped with her whole heart that he'd never, ever leave. Without really knowing why, she took his hand a gave it a gentle squeeze – another gesture that he returned.

"Okay, I'll stay here"

"Thank you" he said in appreciation, "I know you don't 'ave anythin' to change into but do whatever you need to do to be – uh – more comfortable" he offered with a slight blush.

"I will…thank you" and with that, she rose from the bed and moved into the bathroom to change.

When she was done, she felt her cheeks instantly redden when she left the bathroom in only her chemise, after all, no one – not even her best friend – had seen her in so little clothing, and even though she felt wholly embarrassed, there was also a part of her that felt strangely comfortable. She let that thought linger whilst she analysed it before suddenly realising that the very reason she felt embarrassed was the same reason she felt at home: Bert. She began to realise that her blush had much more depth than simply being found in her undergarments, it was the fact that it was _Bert_ of all people that made her so brilliantly red, and yet, it was because of Bert that she also didn't seem to mind. He blushed too when he noticed her wardrobe but rose from the bed like a gentleman and moved over to her.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine" she said calmly, "I think the adrenaline is wearing off now…and I've certainly calmed down a lot"

"Good. Is there anythin' else you need?"

"No thank you" she replied with a gentle shake of her head.

"Okay, well, if there is, please let me know"

"I will. Thank you"

They fell into one of their comfortable silences, the kind that they would always find themselves in whenever they jumped into one of his chalk pictures without her charges, the kind of silence that told them that whilst they treasured each other's company, they didn't feel the need to force the activity of happiness; instead, it all came naturally, and they were more than happy to let in wash over them. Then, she began to act on some sort of instinct and moved her hands to rest timidly upon his chest, but when she looked up at him with innocent and disturbed eyes, Bert couldn't help but slide his arms around her waist and hold her. It had been far too long since they'd done this, and Mary just couldn't believe how much comfort it brought her, the hold of her best friend – and now her saviour – made her feel so safe, and for just a moment, she started to believe that she could forget every horrendous action that had taken place that night.

She wasn't sure what possessed her to do it, but she eventually leant up and brushed her lips shyly against his own, it was just a touch, but she let it linger. She felt Bert stiffen in surprise, but after a couple of seconds, he relaxed and let himself bask in the wonder of their first kiss – regardless of how timid it was. She looked nervous when she pulled away – chewing slightly on her cut lip – but Bert couldn't help but grin slightly.

"Sorry…" Mary breathed, "I shouldn't have done that"

"Listen," he said softly before tightening his hold of her, "did you want to do it?"

"Yes" she blushed.

"And did it feel right?"

"…yes"

"Then you were right to do it. And I'm glad you did, so please don't apologise"

All she could do was smile at him. He always knew just what to say. Then, Bert leant down himself and delicately captured Mary's lips in a fuller kiss, though, it was still incredibly soft, he really cared about her and the last thing he wanted to do was to overwhelm her – especially after what she'd been through – but the kiss was enough to let her know that not only was he there for her, but was also a clear indication of the feelings he'd held for so long.

"I think it's time you got some rest." he advised when they parted, "you can take the bed and I'll sleep in the chair"

"Are you sure? I just wouldn't feel right about –"

"— Mary, I insist, you've had a terrible night, so it's the least I can do"

"Only if you're absolutely sure"

"I am"

"Okay…goodnight"

"Goodnight" he said before kissing the top of her head.

They moved away form each other lazily, and as much as Mary didn't want to leave his embrace, she couldn't deny that settling into Bert's bed also gave her immense comfort; the soft sheets and the warmth from being enveloped in them reminded her that she was now safe. Not only that, but his bed smelt like him. And after a few moments, when the adrenaline had finally seeped away, she allowed herself to be pulled into slumber. But she wasn't out of the woods yet…

Sometime later – and she wasn't exactly sure how long – she awoke with an almighty gasp and Mary instantly felt tears spring to her eyes and her chest heaved, her breathing shuddered and her heart galloped painfully against her chest. It had been a haunting nightmare, one that once again had her pinned beneath the imposing body of her attacker, pressed against the brick walls and had been subjected to his vile and invasive torture. She had been forced to re-live it all over again and feel every second of the horror, and, oh, how real it felt. She began to sob into the blackness of the room, begging for the pain to go away…she had hoped that after Bert's comfort, it would start to take a backseat, but how wrong she was, it was still so painfully harrowing, and she wasn't sure if she could deal with it.

"Mary?" she heard from across the room.

"Bert" she replied helplessly – her voice flooded with tears.

She heard him stand up and walk halfway to the bed…she wished she could see him through the darkness.

"Are you okay?"

She scrunched up her features in yet another futile attempt to stop herself from crying.

"Bert…can – can you…hold me?"

He didn't hesitate, not for a single second.

"Of course"

Bert moved around to the other side of the bed and slowly slipped in beside her, for a few seconds, he remained still, unsure of what to do, but as Mary turned to face him, he felt his heart begin to crack; for within the darkness, her could see the fresh tears glistening within her eyes. He didn't need any light to see just how terrified she was. Without wasting another second, he wrapped his arms around her – holding her lovingly – and allowed her to bury her face into his chest, once again soaking the fabric of his shirt with tears. And that was how they spent the rest of the night, Mary cried away the terror whilst Bert did his best to take it all away, and he vowed that he would not rest until she was healed.

"Everything is gonna be alright, Mary. I promise you…"

* * *

 *** - So, I go to university in York, and one of the words they use for alleyways in York is "Snickleway", I think it's a really cute word and I just had to include it! :)**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, that's that! I know it was a bit dark, but I do hope you enjoyed it! I know I have written some darker Mary Poppins stuff in the past, but I didn't want this to be too gruesome, just a bit more gritty. I hope I also got the balance right, whilst I wanted there to be a bit of romance between Mary and Bert, I wanted the main focus to be on Mary's attack...I hope that come through.**

 **Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed that and I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

 **See you soon! xxx**


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